Across the Barricades

by Joan Lingard

  A clock sounded the half hour. He limped the last few yards to the spot where they had arranged to meet. She was not there yet. He sighed with relief. He leaned against a tree and took a few deep breaths. He had made it, even though he had had to walk like an old man! He grinned to himself. It was cooler tonight that it had been the evening before, or perhaps it was just that he was feeling the cold. Rest in bed for a week, they had told him. Lie in bed for a week! It would be like lying in prison.

  There were not so many people around tonight either. Of course it was Monday. Sundays brought out the young couples. One or two passed him, glancing at him as they passed. He knew he must be a fine looking sight for sore eyes: head bandaged, a black eye, arm in a sling.

  He looked back along the path searching for any sign of Brian Rafferty in case he had been followed. But he was sure that he had not. He had sent out Gerald earlier to see what Rafferty was up to, and Gerald had come back to say he had seen Rafferty and his friends heading out towards another district. His family knew who had beaten him up but they also knew as he did, it was better not to tell the police. When they had questioned him at the hospital he had said that he had no idea who had jumped him. He would be jumped again if he had told: that was a certainty.

  An elderly man came along with his dog. He was throwing a stick for the dog and when the dog brought it back his owner clapped him and said, ‘Good boy, Jack.’ They looked happy, the man and his dog. As he drew level with Kevin, the man stopped.

  ‘Are you all right, son?’ he asked, coming closer.

  ‘Yes. Thanks.’

  ‘Are you sure? Do you want me to help you along the path?’

  No, no, Kevin assured him, he was all right, he would not pass out. The dog stood panting beside them, the stick between his teeth, waiting to be praised.

  ‘All right, Jack, all right,’ said the man.

  The man’s face swam out of focus as if it was drifting under water. Kevin blinked, took another deep breath and steadied himself against the tree. The man put his arms round him.

  ‘You’re not all right, are you? Come on, I’m going to take you home.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Where do you live? I have a car just along the street.’

  Kevin shook his head. ‘Let me sit down,’ he said weakly.

  He slid down to the ground and sat with his head resting against the bark of the tree. He felt a bit better now. He could see the man’s face clearly again: very bright blue eyes, looking at him with concern, creased forehead, a neat little moustache. The man was crouching beside him, and the dog was still waiting patiently with the stick.

  ‘I think you need a doctor.’

  ‘I’m just weak. I had an accident, you see, last night;

  ‘I don’t like leaving you here like this.’ The man shook his head.

  ‘I’m waiting for someone. What time is it?’

  The man looked at his watch. ‘Ten to eight.’

  Ten to eight?’

  ‘Is she late then?’ The man smiled a little.

  Kevin nodded.

  ‘Maybe she won’t come.’

  ‘She’ll come.’

  ‘You sound pretty sure.’

  ‘Well, I know her.’

  ‘I should hope so.’

  Kevin tried to smile but the wound in his head hurt when he did. The man sat down beside him.

  ‘I’ll wait with you till she comes.’

  ‘No, don’t bother. You don’t need to.’

  ‘But if she doesn’t come…’

  ‘She will.’

  ‘I tell you what. I’ll walk the dog along the rest of the path and come back this way. If she’s not here by then I’ll take you home. All right?’

  Kevin agreed. But Sadie would come. Unless of course her family was keeping her in the house… It would take a lot to restrain Sadie. He knew she had dropped out of her bedroom window before now. He watched the man and his dog go out of sight. A clock chimed the hour.

  She was not going to come. Of course she would come. She must come. She would not let him down. Why should she come? She was a pretty girl, she could find plenty of boys, Protestant boys, to take her out. Safe boys. But Sadie never played safe. Why should she want him? His head was confused. He put his hand to it.

  If she did not come by the time the man returned then he would go. He was not capable of waiting any longer…

  He heard the man’s voice before he saw him. ‘Good boy, Jack!’ And then the dog came running, the stick firmly in his jaw, to stop beside Kevin’s feet.

  Kevin looked up at the man.

  ‘I think I should take you now, don’t you?’

  Kevin nodded, tried to rise, collapsed at the knees. The man put his hands under his armpits and helped him to his feet.

  ‘Now lean on me and take it easy, and you’ll be all right.’

  They moved slowly along the path. Kevin’s legs felt like candles beneath him.

  ‘Where do you live, boy?’

  Kevin hesitated. He knew the man was a Protestant: one could always tell when you had been brought up to know the difference at a distance of fifty yards. The man might not want to bring his car into Kevin’s street, past barricades and army patrols.

  ‘I’m a Catholic,’ he said.

  ‘And I’m not,’ said the man. ‘But if you think that means I’m going to drop you by the side of the river you’ve another think coming.’

  ‘But I live in a troubled area. You don’t have to take me right into it.’

  ‘Well, we’ll see about that when we get there,’ said the man cheerfully. He looked back at his dog and whistled to him. ‘What’s your name, boy?’

  ‘Kevin.’

  ‘Right, Kevin, a few more yards and we’ll be there.’

  ‘Kevin! Kevin!’ Sadie’s voice reached them. It was loud, almost frantic.

  Kevin stopped. She had come!

  ‘She’s come,’ he said.

  Sadie was running, her feet flying along the path scarcely touching it, her hair streaming out behind her. They waited for her: the man, the dog and Kevin,

  ‘Why, it’s Sadie Jackson,’ said the man. ‘Fancy that!’

  ‘Oh, Kevin I’ she cried, when she reached them. Her breath came in loud gulps. She put her hand under her ribs.

  Kevin smiled at her in spite of the throb in his head. He had known all along that she would come. He had had no cause to doubt her.

  Sadie turned to him. ‘It’s –’ she paused, ‘– Mr Blake.’ She had almost called him Twinkle Blake. That had been his nickname at school. Twinkle, because of his eyes.

  ‘Haven’t seen you since you left school. But I recognized you at once.’ He chuckled. ‘You could always run fast.’

  ‘Do you know one another then?’ asked Kevin.

  ‘I taught her at school. Come on, Sadie, let’s get this boy into the car. He’s going to keel over in a minute.’

  Between them they supported Kevin to the car and eased him on to the front seat. Blood was seeping through the bandage on his head now. Sadie got into the back of the car with the dog.

  ‘Are you going home with Kevin?’ asked Mr Blake, then he added, ‘But you can’t very well, can you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Could you drop us off somewhere?’ asked Kevin.

  ‘We need to go some place quiet to talk,’ said Sadie.

  ‘O.K.,’ said Mr Blake. ‘I know just the place.’

  Kevin slumped back in his seat, eyes closed. Sadie and Mr Blake talked of old pupils and teachers at school exchanging pieces of news, and he told her that he had retired the previous summer. He was driving them out to one of the suburbs. The houses changed from terraced to small semi-detached with no gardens, and then to slightly larger ones with gardens and hedges and gates.

  Mr Blake turned off the main road and stopped in a quiet street.

  ‘This is my house,’ he said, indicating one with a white gate and a laburnum tree overhanging the pavement. ‘You can come in and sit in peace.�
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  ‘Smashing!’ said Sadie.

  They helped Kevin indoors and laid him on the settee in the sitting-room. It was a comfortable, tidy room, with family photographs on the mantelpiece and piano.

  ‘I’m a widower,’ said Mr Blake. ‘My wife died two years ago and my family’s grown up.’

  ‘So you live alone?’ said Sadie.

  ‘Yes. Sit down, Sadie, I’m going to make you both a cup of coffee and then I’m going to ring my doctor and ask if he’d mind having a look at Kevin’s head. He’s an old friend of mine and he’ll oblige me, I’m sure.’

  Kevin tried to protest but found he was too tired. Sadie sat on the edge of the settee and took hold of Kevin’s hand.

  ‘I’m sorry I was late, Kevin. You see, Brede came to see me –’

  ‘Brede?’

  ‘She told me what had happened.’

  ‘She asked you not to come, didn’t she?’

  ‘Yes. For your sake. She was worried about you and I didn’t know what to do. But I couldn’t bear the thought of you waiting.’

  ‘I’m glad you couldn’t.’ His hand tightened round hers.

  Mr Blake came in carrying a tray. Sadie jumped up to help him.

  ‘The coffee won’t be up to much, I’m afraid,’ he said. ‘I’m not very handy in the kitchen. Still, I do my best. I’ve got hold of the doctor and he’s on his way.’

  As Kevin drank the coffee, colour returned to his cheeks. His face, normally so brown and healthy, looked waxy and yellow. When the doctor arrived, Sadie and Mr Blake retired to the kitchen to wash up the dishes.

  ‘I’ll wash,’ said Sadie.

  ‘And I’ll dry,’ said Mr Blake. He stood with the tea towel in his hand waiting for her to start. ‘I told the doctor a little bit of what had happened so that he wouldn’t ask Kevin too many questions. Goodness knows, he must be sick of questions! Poor lad. But he’s a brave one, Sadie, he wouldn’t give in. He was sitting there waiting for you and all the time he was on the verge of fainting. You’re lucky to have such a nice boy.’

  ‘I know.’ Sadie’s face was serious. ‘But it’s not easy.’

  The doctor joined them in the kitchen. He washed his hands at the sink. ‘Nothing serious,’ he said. ‘At least no more than it was before. But the stitches hadn’t burst. The wound was bleeding, that was all. I’ve changed the dressing and made him more comfortable. Of course he should never have been out walking about at all.’

  ‘I’ll see he gets home safely.’ promised Mr Blake.

  ‘Good.’

  The doctor went off swinging his black bag.

  ‘You go on through and talk to Kevin now, Sadie,’ said Mr Blake. ‘And in a wee while ‘I’ll run him home. He needs to get to his bed soon.’

  Sadie found Kevin sitting up with his back against a cushion. He looked much better. He even grinned at her, and then winced. ‘Ouch!’

  ‘Serves you right,’ said Sadie. ‘No grinning for you for a while!’ She smiled at him.

  ‘Come and sit beside me and tell me something nice.’ He patted the edge of the settee.

  She sat down. ‘I want to talk to you but I don’t know if it’s going to be nice. You see, I decided I’d come to see you tonight, but I decided it would have to be the last time.’

  12

  ‘The last time.’ repeated Kevin.

  ‘It’s not because I don’t want to see you,’ said Sadie. ‘You know I do.’

  ‘So you’re going to give in to them?’ Kevin’s voice had an edge of bitterness.

  ‘It’s not a case of giving in.’

  ‘What is it then?’ he demanded.

  ‘I don’t want you to get hurt again,’ she said simply. ‘That’s all.’

  They were quiet for a moment before Kevin spoke. ‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to sound angry with you, Sadie. It’s just that I hate the idea of Brian Rafferty telling me what to do.’

  ‘It’s not just Brian Rafferty, is it? If it wasn’t him it would be somebody else. Every time I left you I’d be wondering if you were going to be beaten up on the way home.’

  ‘They needn’t know, we could meet in secret.’

  ‘Where?’

  Kevin sighed. He closed his eyes.

  Mr Blake knocked before he entered. He put his head round the door and looked at them. Then he came in and shut the door. He sat down.

  ‘What’s the matter? The two of you don’t look very happy.’

  ‘We’re not,’ said Kevin. ‘Sadie thinks we’ll have to give up seeing one another.’

  Mr Blake shook his head. He reached out to a pipe rack, took down a pipe and began to fill it with tobacco. ‘It’s a pity that. Since you seem so fond of one another. But I know it must be difficult.’

  Sadie felt herself blush. Yes, it was true: she was fond of Kevin; that was why she could not bear to have him hurt.

  ‘It is difficult,’ she said. ‘Even to meet.’

  Kevin had closed his eyes again. His face looked pale and exhausted.

  ‘I think we’ll have to get that boy home,’ said Mr Blake.

  They helped him back into the car. Sadie sat in the back as before.

  ‘You’ve got to let me off outside my neighbourhood.’ Kevin insisted. ‘I’ll manage the last bit alone.’

  ‘All right,’ said Mr Blake. ‘I’m not happy at letting you walk but there’s no point in causing any more trouble.’ He stopped the car in a side street. ‘Will you make it from here?’ Kevin nodded. He put his hand on the handle of the door and looked round at Sadie. Was this to be the last time they would see one another?

  ‘I tell you what,’ said Mr Blake. ‘Would the two of you like to come round to my house for supper one evening?’

  ‘We’d love to, wouldn’t we, Kevin?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Kevin.

  ‘Shall we say Friday?’ suggested Mr Blake. ‘That’ll give Kevin a few days to be going about again.’

  ‘See you Friday then,’ said Kevin.

  He opened the door. They watched him as he walked up the street. He was limping badly but walking fairly steadily. At the corner he turned to wave, then was gone. Sadie moved over on to the front seat beside Mr Blake.

  ‘I hope he’ll be all right,’ she said.

  ‘Don’t worry. He’ll make it. He looks a tough one.’

  Mr Blake drove Sadie home. They passed several armoured cars heading in the opposite direction.

  ‘These are bad times, Sadie,’ sighed Mr Blake. ‘Especially for a Protestant girl to be keeping company with a Catholic boy.’

  ‘I know,’ she said soberly. ‘Do you think I’m mad, Mr Blake?’

  ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘And I should probably give you good advice and tell you to give it up. You can’t always walk with the crowd, especially if you don’t like the way they’re walking. But I like you for it. It takes a bit of courage. You were never lacking in that.’

  Sadie felt herself blush again. She was not one who blushed easily but that was twice Mr Blake had made her blush in a few hours. He was a very open and honest man, she remembered that from schooldays. He always said what it was in his mind to say.

  He stopped outside her house. She opened the car door.

  ‘Good night, Mr Blake. And thanks for everything. I think you’re super.’

  His blue eyes twinkled. ‘A few years back you were probably saying quite the opposite, eh?’

  ‘I’m changing in my old age. See you. Thanks again.’

  She stood on the pavement, waving until he was out of sight. She was still shaking her head with admiration when Tommy came out of the front door.

  ‘Who was that brought you home?’

  ‘Twinkle Blake. Do you remember him? The geography teacher.’

  Tommy frowned. ‘What were you doing with him?’

  Sadie told him about Kevin meeting him on the Lagan path. Tommy was impressed by Mr Blake’s kindness but troubled that Sadie was going to see Kevin again.

  ‘Where’ll it all end?’ he wanted to know.
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  ‘I can’t think about that,’ said Sadie. Beginnings were more interesting. ‘But do you know what happened to me this morning?’

  ‘No, but I soon will.’

  The old bitch in the hat department said to me, “I hear you’re keeping company with a Mick”.’

  ‘And what did you say?’ asked Tommy, resigned to hearing the worst.

  ‘I told her to go to hell and she gave me the sack.’

  ‘Will you ever learn to keep your mouth shut?’

  ‘Why should I? She opened hers first.’

  ‘What’ll Ma say when she hears you’re out of work?’

  ‘I’m not going to tell her till I get another job.’

  A loud bang nearby made them jump. It had sounded like the crack of an explosion. Almost at once other noises followed the first one: screaming, shouting, commotion. It was coming from the next street.

  They ran round the corner. Mrs McConkey’s shop was going up in flames.

  A number of people had gathered in the street already. Most of them were running around shouting. Mr Mullet was there waving his arms.

  ‘Sadie, go quick and get a policeman,’ said Tommy.

  Sadie went. One did not have to go far without encountering a policeman or soldier. She found two policemen in the main street. They had heard the explosion and were coming to investigate.

  Within several minutes the narrow street was filled with fire engines, police cars and people. The police ordered the spectators out of the street and began to evacuate the families in the houses near Mrs McConkey’s shop.

  The Jacksons and the Mullets retreated round the corner. They stood in front of the Jacksons’ house to await news. Fresh rumours came with every person who passed. The shop had been blown up by gelignite, a petrol bomb, three petrol bombs… Four masked men had been seen in the street. Mrs McConkey was dead. Mrs McConkey was rushed to hospital. Mrs McConkey had not been found.

  ‘God help us all,’ said Mrs Jackson. ‘It could be our turn next.’